


In the Dark

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: Taking What Comes [5]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Brief description of violence, M/M, Manipulative Behavior, Thighjob, Unhealthy Relationships, but basically just porn, jack is a predatory fuckstick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: "Patience is a conquering virtue." - Geoffrey ChaucerJack's making himself wait for Rhys' heat to knot the kid for the first time, but that doesn't mean there aren't other things they can do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a prompt fill for [TheSpaceCoyote](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) that grew immediately out of the 100-word limit and then sat in my drafts for five months. I'm sorry it took me so long to finish it - I hope you like it.
> 
> I _also_ want everyone to know that [Jill](http://jilldrawblog.tumblr.com) wanted me to call this "Killer in the Streets, Omega in the Sheets," although I suppose I did bring that one upon myself.
> 
> Also also, if you haven't picked up on it by now, this is a deeply fucked up dynamic. Caveat emptor and all that.

Jack settles the blindfold around Rhys’ head, and the kid’s fingers creep up to touch it - not to try to take it off, but testing, patting the cloth over his closed eyes as if touch will replace the sense that Jack has has taken away. Jack pulls Rhys’ hand down and plants it on the bed, and when he lets go Rhys leaves it there.

Jack sits back and admires his handiwork. Rhys’ breath is already coming a little faster, unused to having to depend on sound and smell alone, but as Jack watches Rhys leans forward a little and inhales through his nose, clearly chasing Jack’s scent. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it, and it curls something dark and warm inside Jack’s chest to see Rhys seeking him out for comfort, even unawares.

“Doing alright, sweetheart?” Rhys nods hesitantly.

“Good,” Jack says, getting up. “Stay there.”

He’s tempted to just tie Rhys to the bed and keep him there. An omega coming into their own has a distinctive scent, hormone changes slowly altering their body, and for some alphas that’s a particularly irresistible temptation. Jack certainly can’t deny the draw, but with Rhys it’s not _just_ about the prospect of a fresh omega, wrecked and needy with his first heat.

It’s about the way Jack can say _stay_ and know that Rhys will, even as he turns his head to try to track Jack’s movement. It’s about how, to Rhys, Jack appears to be the only thing in the world that matters. _That_ is worth any amount of waiting, and Jack can smell Rhys’ first heat coming. It’s not here yet, but it’s coming.

Rhys had asked, diffidently, if Jack could tell how far away his heat was. He’d been staring at the ground, apparently unable to look Jack in the eye, so he had missed the grin that had flashed across Jack’s face before he’d been able to school it into a more neutral expression. Jack had taken great pleasure in pulling Rhys close and thoroughly scenting his neck, and although there was nothing Rhys’ skin could tell Jack that his scent across the room couldn’t, Jack wasn’t about to give up the chance to trace his lips down Rhys’ neck and across the nascent bonding site. The nerves there weren’t fully functional yet, but they were clearly alive enough to make Rhys shudder with new sensation, trembling under Jack’s fingers as he tried to keep himself from pressing closer.

It hadn’t occurred to Jack until recently that maybe done his job _too_ well - that Rhys wasn’t afraid of _Jack_ , he was afraid of _overstepping_ . Jack had almost laughed aloud when he had realized that the tension in Rhys’ shoulders following the night he had shaken apart on Jack’s fingers hadn’t been _regret_ but _anticipation_ . Rhys would let him, if Jack said that he wanted he wanted to fuck Rhys right now, Jack is certain of that. But this has always been about Rhys coming to him, and the kid is _so close_ to being out of his mind with need and want, not just willing but _begging_ to take Jack’s knot, and that - that is worth waiting for.

There are other things they can do in the meantime.

Jack stands next to Rhys’ bed and unzips his trousers. His cock is already showing interest as he draws it out and squeezes gently, and he smiles to himself as Rhys tilts his head, clearly trying to figure out what Jack’s doing. He can see the exact second realization crosses Rhys’ face, and Jack allows himself a groan as pink spreads across Rhys’ cheeks. Rhys licks his lips and that _is_ a tempting thought but it’s not what Jack has in mind.

“Lie down, sweetheart. No, on your side,” he corrects as Rhys goes to turn over on his stomach. Rhys hesitates, and Jack can almost smell his confusion, but Rhys settles on his side with his back to Jack, legs curled up and hand clutching the covers.

“Now your belt.” Rhys’ hand springs gratifyingly quickly to his belt, and although his hand shakes a little he strips off his belt without hesitation. His hand goes to the fastening of his pants next but he pauses, waiting for instructions, and Jack grins as his dick twitches in his hand.

“Go on.” The mattress shifts as Jack settles on the edge of the bed, lazily stroking himself as Rhys wrestles with his pants. He gets them shoved down to mid-thigh and moves to kick them the rest of the way off, but Jack puts a hand on Rhys’ hip and the kid stills instantly.

“Leave ‘em.” The pants will help keep Rhys’ thighs together. Jack smooths his hand over one round cheek, spreading Rhys open with his thumb. Rhys shifts, head turning back over his shoulder even though the blindfold keeps him in the dark. His mouth parts on a gasp as Jack slides his thumb over that glistening hole, and when Jack presses his thumb against it - not pressing _in_ , just being _present_ \- the helpless sound that escapes his lips is everything Jack could have wanted.

It’s almost funny, Jack thinks as he shifts fully onto the bed, the duality this kid is capable of. Jack has seen Rhys in action - hell, he's the one who taught Rhys how to wield a knife. Rhys has a deft hand with a blade and a seeming indifference to danger, allowing him to take apart men bigger and stronger than he is with the kind of aplomb even Jack’s top lieutenants don’t have. Jack’s never seen _anything_ break that quiet concentration, not until Jack calls his name. Then it’s like Rhys surfaces from some deep water, blinking as he refocuses on his surroundings, turning unerringly toward the sound of Jack’s voice. A spray of blood across the face should send any omega shuddering backward, but Rhys doesn’t seem to hardly notice, instead smiling hopefully as he meets Jack’s gaze, waiting for Jack’s approval.

The kid’s got a killer’s instincts, which is undoubtedly unique for an omega. But under Jack’s touch he responds to a different set of instincts, ones that have him pressing back into Jack with an impatient noise as Jack settles behind him.

“Easy, easy,” Jack soothes, getting an arm underneath the kid and pulling Rhys in until his back is flush with Jack’s chest. He can feel the kid’s heartbeat pounding underneath his palm, feel Rhys’ breath coming short and fast in his lungs. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

Rhys tries, gulping in a breath and exhaling slowly. His breath calms as Jack reaches behind himself to the tub of salve on the nightstand, but he jumps when Jack slides slick fingers between his thighs. The kid whimpers as Jack spreads the salve around, fingers sliding over the delicate skin of his inner thighs, and he chokes when Jack slides his fingers all the way up, stroking over the tender skin of his perineum. Jack noses the ties of the blindfold away and presses his lips to the back of Rhys’ neck.

“You’re so good for me, Rhys, so good” he murmurs into the kid’s hairline, and Rhys shudders underneath him. “Let me be good to you.”

Rhys turns his face into the pillow and moans as Jack slides his cock in between the kid’s thighs. Jack goes slowly at first, letting the kid feel every inch of it drag against his skin, against his balls, against his own rapidly stiffening length. He holds Rhys firmly against his chest with one hand and clamps the kid’s thighs shut with the other; tangled up in his pants as they are, they hadn’t been very far apart, but Rhys gets the hint pretty quickly. Jack muffles his own groan in Rhys’ hair as the kid’s thighs flex around him, creating a warm, slick hole for him to fuck into.

Rhys whimpers every time Jack’s dick rubs against the underside of his, hand clenched tight in the bedspread as if to anchor himself. He’s started leaking slick in earnest, now; not as much as he will when his heat finally catches up to him, but enough to dribble down to where Jack’s thrusts can spread it around. He feels warm underneath Jack’s hands - not feverish-hot, not yet - but warm and pliable and _perfect_.

Jack finds himself murmuring into Rhys’ hair, _perfect_ and _so good_ and _just for me_ and other indistinct words of praise as his hips start picking up speed. The warmth and friction coil heat in his gut, still low and pleasant for the moment but gaining strength with every slide of his dick against Rhys’ skin. Jack slides the hand on Rhys’ chest upwards, and Rhys tilts his head back to let Jack’s fingers encircle his neck. Jack’s own breath picks up at that easy acquiescence, and with Rhys’ pulse fluttering under his fingertips it’s easy, so easy, to tighten the barest bit, just enough so Rhys’ panting breath becomes audible over the wet sounds of skin against skin. Jack grinds his hips into the back of Rhys’ thighs, letting the whine of Rhys’ breath and the drag of his skin on Jack’s dick spur him on. Rhys makes a little choked sound and Jack immediately eases off, but Rhys just shoves his hips back, encouraging and needy all at once. Jack lifts his fingers from where they’ve been digging bruises into the kids hip and threads them with Rhys’, lifting the kid’s hand and bringing it down to between his legs.

“You’re close, aren’t you, kiddo?” Jack’s voice sounds low and dark even to his own ears, and Rhys nods frantically as Jack closes their hands loosely around Rhys’ twitching cock. “Here, baby, this’ll help.” Rhys moans desperately, hips jerking as he thrusts frantically into the ring their fingers make, and when Jack bites down on the shell of his ear he sobs, coming in jerky spurts over the coverlet.

Jack’s close, too, the smell of a satisfied omega making his gut clench and his knot start to grow. It catches a bit on the skin of Rhys’ thighs, tearing little noises out of the kid with each thrust as he fights to recover his breath. Jack closes his eyes and grits his teeth, reminding himself as his hips keep pumping between Rhys’ thighs that he is _waiting_ , that he _doesn’t_ want to push Rhys flat on his stomach and push his swelling knot into the kid - not now, anyway. Not _yet_. Instead Jack releases Rhys’ fingers and draws his own through the mess on the coverlet, bringing them up to Rhys’ mouth. The kid opens obediently as soon as Jack’s fingers trace his lips, taking Jack’s fingers into his mouth and sucking desperately. Jack groans, burying his face in Rhys’ hair as the kid’s tongue traces warm and wet over Jack’s fingers, cleaning Rhys’ own release off of them. Jack’s hips stutter one last time and Rhys makes a muffled noise around his fingers as Jack’s dick jerks between Rhys’ thighs, wedging his knot just below the curve of Rhys’ ass and releasing hot and wet over the front of his thighs. Rhys continues to make muffled noises and Jack realizes the kid is trying to say something, so he draws his fingers back out and rests them on Rhys’ hip.

“Please, please, _Jack_ .” Rhys is practically sobbing into the pillow. “ _Please fuck me_ , I want it, I want you to -” Jack growls into the kid’s neck as his dick twitches - it’s too soon for him to be ready again, his knot is too big, but he could be soon if he just stayed here with Rhys pushing back frantically against him, breathing in those pheromones laced with the barest trace of an omega in heat. He could push Rhys flat on his stomach and fuck right into him and Rhys would _scream_ for it, pinned under Jack’s weight and unable to move. He’d be tight, so tight, on that edge of not-quite-ready as he is, and Jack is sorely tempted, fingers digging into Rhys’ hip, but -

“Not tonight, kiddo.” Jack brushes his lips over the back of Rhys’ neck, pushing back his own impatience. The kid shivers underneath him, squeezing his thighs around Jack’s knot and Jack grits his teeth. “You’re not ready for that.”

Rhys shifts away a bit, pushing up on his arm and turning over to face Jack. Jack growls a bit at the loss of pressure around his knot but Rhys is shoving the blindfold up, squinting against the sudden brightness, to meet Jack’s eyes. There is the faintest hint of wetness about his lashes but his mouth is set determinedly.

“I _am_ ready,” he insists. “I’m ready, I am, I want this, I want - “ He bites his lip and Jack’s almost sure that the end of that sentence was _I want you._ That alone nearly erodes what’s left of Jack’s restraint - Jack’s knot is still high but Rhys is _asking_ , he could take it, he could almost certainly learn to take it - but there’s a place beyond this, where Rhys’ heat has undone what shyness he has left, and _that’s_ where Jack wants to have Rhys squirming on his dick for the first time, panting and unselfconscious and utterly, utterly Jack’s.

So instead he leans down and brushes his lips over Rhys’, biting down on the bottom lip where Rhys’ own teeth had dug in a second ago. That earns him a desperate groan, and the kid turns into him, pressing along Jack’s front. His legs are still caught in his pants and Rhys wiggles for a moment, finally kicking them off and tangling his legs with Jack’s. His fingers trace Jack’s swollen knot carefully, and Jack has to bite his tongue on the noise he makes at the shy touch of those unpracticed fingers.

“That’s a convincing argument, kiddo,” Jack says, low and breathy, and Rhys looks up hopefully. “But the answer is still no.” Rhys’ face falls and Jack chuckles, gathering him in close. Rhys burrows into his arms, tucking his head under Jack’s chin, rubbing his cheek along Jack’s collarbone. Jack lets him, tracing his fingers idly up and down the back of Rhys’ neck. He lets Rhys lie there, a boneless weight against Jack’s front, until his knot goes down enough that it’s comfortable to move again.

Then he disentangles himself, ignoring Rhys’ faint noise of protest, and rights his clothing. When he shifts off the bed Rhys sits up as if to follow him, but Jack shushes him and tucks him into bed, smiling as Rhys slides reluctantly under the covers. It’s not that Jack wouldn’t be happy to spend the night with an eager young omega wrapped around him - but he wants to keep the kid on the edge of anticipation, and that means returning to his own room when they’re done here. When Rhys’ heat finally arrives, Jack fully intends to lock the both of them inside his bedroom - but that, like Rhys’ first knotting, will have to wait, both an incentive and a reward for Jack’s patience.

Jack brushes his lips over the top of Rhys’ head and breathes in for a second. He smiles to himself.

Any day now. He won’t have to wait much longer.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
